


No Place Like Home

by TheBirbiest



Category: RWBY
Genre: And then this happened, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, For now though, Idiots in Love, JUST, M/M, and I couldn't be happier, and I might even extend it into a few chapters, have some fluff, here we are, it's been a LONG time since I've written with them, just thinking a lot about my significant other, lots of love, so now, with the gay boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:21:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25331614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBirbiest/pseuds/TheBirbiest
Summary: Once upon a time, this room was mysterious and new. A secret shared with him via a wizard’s love language. It was where they snuck away, bird and wizard, when they wanted nothing more than to wrap themselves in each other’s arms. At what point had it become something akin to a sanctuary? A place that Qrow scurried away to when his anxieties spoke too loudly? When theworldspoke too loudly? When did something as simple as awindowcalm him from a nightmare? Ease him into a state of mind that didn’tdemandhe get up and find a drinkimmediately?
Relationships: Qrow Branwen/Ozpin
Comments: 7
Kudos: 28





	No Place Like Home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mimmy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mimmy/gifts).



> I'd just like to dedicate this piece to my significant other. They're always looking out for me and doing their best to ensure that I feel safe, comfortable, and happy, and because of this, I was able to feel both inspired and motivated to write this piece. Thank you, so so much, for all that you do and continue to do.
> 
> I hope that you all enjoy some super fluffy Cloqwork material. <3

He wakes with a jolt; a hand reaching for a weapon that’s not present. The hand grasps the empty air, a sigh rolling from him as crimson orbs flick to the window directly across from him.

_Safe. He was safe._

Another sigh as his hand presses itself to his forehead; smoothing away the bangs damp with sweat. He runs the hand down his face, hoping to rid himself of the memories that still haunted him. The very same that had followed him, mercilessly, for years. Was it really a question as to why he drank so much?

“Qrow?”

He hears the shifting behind him, but can’t bring himself to turn around. 

Not yet.

Lifting his gaze back to the fractured moon hanging low over Remnant, he focuses on his breathing. The steady rise and fall of his chest and the repeated, mental mantra that whispers softly _‘Yes. You’re safe.’_

Did he ever feel this way before? Once upon a time, this room was mysterious and new. A secret shared with him via a wizard’s love language. It was where they snuck away, bird and wizard, when they wanted nothing more than to wrap themselves in each other’s arms. At what point had it become something akin to a sanctuary? A place that Qrow scurried away to when his anxieties spoke too loudly? When the _world_ spoke too loudly? When did something as simple as a _window_ calm him from a nightmare? Ease him into a state of mind that didn’t **demand** he get up and find a drink _immediately?_

“...Qrow?”

The voice was closer to him now. A gentle hand brushes against his shoulder. He leans into it, muttering softly, “G’morning.”

A snort enters the air.

“And a good morning to _you.”_

A pause - just long enough for the man to stir up some sort of lie. An excuse that he can slap over his behavior and call it a night. Avoid this moment of weakness and guarantee the both of them a nice, quiet night, whereupon Qrow _didn’t_ discuss the depressing topics of his nightmares.

“What are you doing up?”

He hesitates, mouth open and a lie lying comfortably on the back of his tongue, but the hand is back at his shoulder now; soft touches lulling him further into a state of calm. 

“...Nightmares.”

_“Oh.”_

There’s no judgement in the voice. No contempt or pity. Just... _understanding._ It was the piece of Oz that he loved most. Not the reasoning behind it, but his ability to recognize it. Respect it for its existence and nothing more.

“What about you?” Qrow asks as he turns his head, peaking over his shoulder at the mess of silver hair behind him.

“Mm...the usual.”

He raises a brow.

“You’re horny?”

Honeyed orbs meet his face immediately as the man scoffs aloud. He jabs a finger into Qrow’s cheek; turning his face back toward the direction of moonlight.

“I’m _hungry.”_

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?”

“Don’t flatter yourself, Qrow,” the man sighs with all the drama and flair of a fledgling actor looking to pursue gigs on _primetime television._ “A proper mug of hot cocoa and some cookies will _always_ beat you after midnight, I’m afraid.”

Now it’s his turn to snort, his head turning back to lock crimson with honey.

“Really? Hot cocoa and cookies?”

_“Really.”_

A small chuckle rumbles from between his lips. Ozpin pushes himself closer to Qrow, planting a kiss to his stubbly cheek. 

“Can you honestly say you’re surprised?”

“I can’t.”

“Well, then I take it you’ll be joining me?”

“I usually do, don’t I?”

“Mm…” He pauses, resting his chin on the man’s shoulder as a smirk crawls along his lips. _“Usually,_ yes. Although these days, I’m afraid your age is starting to catch up with you. It gets harder and harder to wake you for the _‘midnight munchies.’”_

Qrow can’t help but laugh at this, rolling his eyes and shrugging the man off his shoulder. He hears the tiniest _‘oof’_ from his counterpart, but pays little mind to it when he’s just _insulted him._

“Watch it, Old Man,” he retorts, pushing himself up and swinging his legs from the bed. “Or you’re gonna start doing a hell of a lot more alone than just the midnight munchies.”

“Oh, what a _threat,”_ Ozpin lays the back of his hand against his forehead, eyes never leaving the tall, lanky individual that now stands before him. “Whatever will I do without your consistent sarcasm to keep me company during the day _and_ night?”

Qrow rolls his eyes, setting his hands on his hips as he glares down at the silver haired _fool._ It doesn’t matter how upset he is or how frustrated he’s become, one look at the smile that slides so easily and so perfectly across the soft, attractive face of his lover is all that it takes to wash it all away. 

“C’mon,” he mumbles, rounding the bed. “Or I’m gonna look up porn on your computer and send it to Goodwitch.”

“Qrow. _Branwen._ You would not **dare.”**

“The longer you whine, the closer I get to makin’ bad decisions…”

_**“Qrow!”** _

The voice follows him out the doorway as he does his best to stifle the laugh that bubbles in his chest. He hears his lover fumble loudly behind him. The frantic shuffling of bed sheets and blankets. The hurried steps that patter from one side of the room to the other as he searches for his robe. The eventual, **final** _whine_ as the man stumbles out of the room.

“Was your _horribly timed_ entrance today not enough for you? Glynda was in the middle of a _very_ important meeting and you--”

“Oh, come on. If it was _that_ important you wouldn’t have agreed to leave with me so quickly.”

“That...is _not--”_

He glances over his shoulder and catches the pink staining Ozpin’s face. He chuckles at the indignant pout that follows immediately after. Wasting no time at all, he turns and grasps the man’s chin delicately. Lifting his head toward his own, he presses his lips against him. They remain like that; indulging in one another. One kiss leading into two and three. It’s impossible for Qrow to pull away when they’re like this - soft, sincere, _whole -_ so Ozpin pulls away for him; one hand pressed against his partner’s chest.

“...You’re horrible,” he murmurs as he presses his forehead against him.

“Yeah, but you like me, so I can’t be that bad.”

The wizard scoffs with a teasing smile, and leans forward into another kiss. He sets his hands on either side of the Huntsman’s face. Caresses his cheekbones with his thumbs. 

“Let’s go have ourselves a snack, hm?”

“...How can you say that with such a straight face and _not_ be horny?”

_**“Qrow."** _

“Listen, I’m just askin’, alright?”

With a roll of his eyes and a playful push to his chest, Ozpin steps around his partner and exits the room via a push of a button; the wall sliding away to reveal the familiar office that both of them knew and loved. The smooth grinding of gears greets them pleasantly, but the two men have found themselves far too infatuated with one another to notice. Their laughs intermingle with the sounds. Their conversation decorates the room and makes it feel warm. Their actions carry them to the nearby couch - hot chocolate in one hand, and a plate of cookies in the other. 

But it’s through their bond, through the words that are layered in levels of intimacy and comfort, through the man that exudes all of these things without requiring anything in return, that Qrow finds a home.

It is here, in these moments, when he’s reminded: _there’s no place like home._


End file.
